There’s a specific kind of silence that shows up after the party. Not “everyone went to bed” silence. The other one.
The room still feels warm. The bass is still in the walls. There’s confetti in places that make no sense. And you’re standing there in that post-everything glow realizing you’re the only one left with the thoughts still playing.
That’s where memories i kept began.
I’ve been calling it a “heartbeat” track because that’s what it feels like to me: a pulse you can dance to, even when your head is somewhere else. It’s melodic house with a dance-meets-ballad mood, which is a fancy way of saying: your body can move while your chest is doing its own thing.
The lyrics came from a place I know too well, the file folder in the brain labeled “DO NOT OPEN,” that you open anyway. It’s about the moments that freeze. The photos you can’t delete. The apology you didn’t say because you were embalmed in time and your words didn’t show up when they were needed.
I’ll never forget you.
Of course I’ll never forget you.
Though you think I have.
There’s a line in the song that still hits me every time: “Night words go by quickly.” That’s the whole problem, isn’t it? The things we almost say. The things we type and don’t send. The conversations that only happen in our heads at 2:00 AM when the world is asleep and we’re suddenly brave, alone, and late.
And then there’s the mirror.
“We were let into a room then / and I forgot to dance.”
“I’ll never look in the mirror / I only had one chance.”
That’s the part I didn’t expect to write. The song isn’t just nostalgia, it’s regret with a beat. It’s the strange grief of realizing you were present, but not present enough. Like you got invited into something real and you missed your own moment inside it.
The funny thing is, making electronic music has always been my way of telling the truth while wearing sunglasses. You can hide a lot in a kick drum. You can say the most vulnerable thing you’ve ever thought and put a four-on-the-floor under it and suddenly it’s… survivable. Shareable. Danceable.
That’s what I wanted with memories i kept. Not to turn pain into content. Not to wrap it in a bow. Just to let it exist in a way that feels honest.
A track you can play while driving at night.
Or standing in your kitchen pretending you’re not thinking about it.
Or on a dancefloor, actually dancing this time.
If you’ve ever stared at a picture and thought, “I don’t know if I can delete this,” I hope the song finds you.
And if you haven’t, please enjoy it anyway. I’d love to meet you in that universe.
memories i kept is out now on SoundCloud and Bandcamp.
Thank you for listening.
Sunset Sky